The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
by WinterSky101
Summary: A collection of Christmas stories. Includes characters from all parts of the Shadowhunter Chronicles.
1. Chapter 1

**Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates Christmas!**

 **This fic will be 13 chapters in all, with chapters published daily from Christmas to Epiphany (January 6th). The chapters are separate snapshots, focusing on various characters in the Shadowhunter Chronicles universe. Any that mention a Christmas someone never in the title had take place in alternate fix-it universes.**

 **I hope you enjoy, and again, Happy Holidays!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Shadowhunter Chronicles.**

* * *

 _Chapter 1: The Christmas the London Institute Never Had_

Tessa woke early on Christmas morning, as she had every year since she was a child. For a moment, although her room at the Institute was familiar now, she felt a shock of confusion as to where she was. It would be her first Christmas without Nate and her aunt.

It would also be her first Christmas with the inhabitants of the London Institute, which Tessa thought had the potential to be just as good.

"Happy Christmas, Miss Tessa," Sophie stated as she entered the bedroom.

"Merry Christmas!" Tessa replied, beaming. "Isn't it a lovely morning?"

"If you say so," Sophie replied, sounding amused. Tessa realized why a moment later; Sophie pulled back the curtains to reveal the damp, gray streets of London, a slight drizzle in the air. It did nothing to ruin Tessa's mood.

"Sophie, if you wouldn't mind, could you open the wardrobe?" Tessa asked, slipping her feet into her slippers and pulling her robe around herself. Sophie frowned slightly, but did as Tessa asked, crossing to the wardrobe and opening it.

Hanging on the inside of the door was a deep green dress, cut perfectly to flatter Sophie. "I- I don't understand," Sophie stammered. Tessa stood and pulled Sophie into a tight hug from behind, resting her chin on Sophie's shoulder.

"It's a present for you," she told her. "I thought you'd look lovely in the color. It'll bring out the green in your eyes."

"How?" Sophie breathed, her hand hovering a few inches from the dress as if she were afraid to touch it.

"Charlotte helped me," Tessa admitted. "She has your measurements from other dresses she's had made for you, and then I had this dress made with money from my dress allowance. I hope you like it."

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever owned," Sophie whispered. "But what will I do with it?"

"That's the other part of my present," Tessa replied, beaming. "The next time you go out with Gideon Lightwood, I'll be your lady's maid. We'll get you all prettied up in this dress and Gideon will be even more stunned than usual at your beauty."

"You- Oh, Miss Tessa." Sophie brushed the silk of the green dress with the tips of her fingers. When she turned to face Tessa, the joy on her face made her so beautiful Tessa barely noticed her scar. "Thank you so much, Miss Tessa."

"You're my friend," Tessa told Sophie, taking her hands. "And friends give each other gifts for Christmas."

"Do you have gifts for the others?" Sophie asked as she pulled out the deep burgundy dress that Tessa was going to wear that day. Tessa nodded.

"I have a little pair of booties for Charlotte and Henry's baby and a pearl necklace for Jessamine. I wasn't sure what to get for the Lightwoods, but I ended up getting each of them a new cravat. I don't know if they'll like them, but I thought they'd be useful. I found a beautiful necklace with a dried forget-me-not for Cecily. And I bought some lovely cufflinks for Magnus, to send off to him, I suppose."

"And for Master Will and Master Jem?" Sophie asked, a teasing hint in her voice as she helped Tessa out of her nightgown.

Tessa blushed slightly. "I bought Will a lovely edition of _A Christmas Carol_ , and I bought Jem Vivaldi sheet music for his violin."

"I'm sure they'll love their presents," Sophie replied, smiling knowingly. "Will you be spending the evening together?"

"Yes, most likely," Tessa replied. It was somewhat of an open secret in the Institute that Tessa, Will, and Jem were all tied together by a bond that was not mere friendship. Tessa was still engaged to Jem, but any sort of married life between the two would inevitably include Will as well. Jem and Will's souls were entwined, Tessa thought, and to love one was to love the other. She could no more have kept Will from her relationship with Jem than she could have stopped the tide itself.

Sophie helped Tessa dress and arranged her hair beautifully. "Do you need my help with anything else, Miss Tessa?" Sophie asked once Tessa was finished. "Miss Jessamine will be waiting."

"I'm fine, Sophie," Tessa replied, adjusting the jade pendant Jem had given her. Sophie smiled slightly as she left the room.

"You look lovely," a soft voice told Tessa a minute later. She angled her mirror with a smile, showing Jem in the doorway, leaning forward on his cane. Will was behind him, grinning widely.

"As do you," Tessa replied, standing. Both were dressed in their best clothes, a scarlet cravat at Jem's throat and a green one at Will's. "I would have thought a red cravat would look morbid, but it looks quite dashing on you," Tessa told Jem.

"Will insisted on it," Jem replied ruefully, tugging on the cravat slightly. "He insisted that the red would look better on me than on him."

"He was correct," Tessa replied. Will made an outraged face.

"I'll have you know I would look just as good in a red cravat!" he cried. "I simply thought the red suited Jem better than the green, and the green suited me better than the red."

"And you were correct," Tessa replied soothingly. "You both look absolutely beautiful."

"And you, dearest Tess, outshine us both," Will added, bending over and brushing a kiss against Tessa's hand. "You are a Christmas vision."

"Surely I cannot outshine your beauty," Tessa countered. Jem shook his head.

"Oh, Tessa, our sweet Tessa, you most certainly can."

Tessa smiled as Jem took one of her arms and Will the other. The trio went down the hallway to the library, where Tessa knew the enormous Christmas tree waited. Charlotte was already waiting there, sitting by the tree while Henry sat at her feet, leaning against her legs. The Lightwoods were there as well, having some soft discussion, and, amusing himself by changing the colors of the candles, was Magnus Bane.

"Magnus!" Tessa cried, beaming. Magnus turned, his smile wide.

"Lovely Tessa. How lovely to see you."

"I thought you were off in New York?" Tessa asked. Magnus shrugged.

"I was, and now I'm back. I wanted to be here for Christmas. I made a Portal to hop over here."

"Perhaps you three can entertain Magnus while we wait for the others," Charlotte offered. Tessa heard the unsaid, _Before he burns down the Institute somehow_. Tessa wished she could say that Magnus would do no such thing, but there was no way of being sure.

"I'm sure the story of how you three have been doing recently would be enough to entertain me," Magnus told Tessa, wiggling his eyebrows. Jem flushed slightly, but Will just laughed.

"And have you been to see Woolsey yet, or do you have some new paramour in New York?" he asked Magnus, who shrugged.

"Woolsey has more important things to do than see me. And I haven't met anyone special in New York, no."

"You'll find someone, I'm sure," Tessa comforted.

"I'm sure I will," Magnus replied. "I _am_ rather incredible, after all. But right now, I want to hear about what's happening with the three of you. Tell me all the dirty little details."

"There are no 'dirty little details,'" Tessa replied scoldingly. "And you're embarrassing poor Jem." It was true; Jem's face was shockingly red.

"Are you three happy, at least?" Magnus asked, his voice much softer.

"Very happy," Jem murmured. Magnus beamed.

"Then that's plenty. I hope you remain so."

"Cecily, Jessie, Sophie, Happy Christmas to you all," Charlotte called a moment later, as the other girls appeared at the door. "Shall we open presents now?"

"I already have the two presents I want right beside me," Will murmured, reaching down to take Tessa and Jem's hands. Tessa reached forward to link hands with Jem as well. She hoped that the slight squeeze told both of them she felt the same way.

Considering the way they squeezed back, she thought they did.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: Raphael's Christmas_

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Magnus asked. His eyes were horribly knowing and sympathetic and _old_. Raphael hated it.

"I am," he replied simply. "I have gone to church on Christmas every year, and I will go this year."

"We could figure something else out," Magnus suggested. Raphael shook his head.

"I will go to this church," he stated firmly. Magnus sighed.

"Alright. I'm staying with you."

Raphael's face twisted in annoyance. "You are not my babysitter, Bane," he retorted. "I do not need you to watch me."

"Then why did you call me?" Magnus countered. Raphael pursed his lips. _Because I knew we would both be alone on Christmas and no one should be alone on Christmas,_ was the true answer, but he wasn't about to admit that. Magnus took his silence as relenting and nodded sharply.

"So we go in together," he stated. "I'll give you your space."

"Fine," Raphael huffed, stepping forward.

The sidewalk wasn't consecrated ground, but the grass in front of the church was. The shock of pain that ran up Raphael's leg was enough to almost make his knees buckle. Magnus grabbed his arm before he could stumble. "Are you sure about this?" Magnus hissed.

Every cell of Raphael's body was screaming that he didn't belong there. He should leave, he should stay away and never come back.

Raphael shoved the pain aside. "Yes," he told Magnus, taking another step. He could do this. He was not giving himself another choice.

Each step towards the church was agony. Raphael forced himself to walk alone, without Magnus' support. The church itself, thankfully, was close to empty. It was quarter past eleven on Christmas night, so Raphael hadn't expected anything else. Being in the building was painful, the likes of which Raphael had never imagined. He hadn't gone inside a church since he had become a vampire. He could say the name of God, he could go on consecrated ground, he could wear a cross, but he was worried that perhaps praying inside a church might be a bit more than he could bear. Regardless, he was going to do it.

"I'll wait back here," Magnus told Raphael softly, sliding into the back pew. "You can go pray or whatever it is you want to do."

Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, Raphael walked down the aisle in the church, stumbling into an empty pew when he didn't think he could walk anymore. Looking directly at the crucifix hanging behind the altar made his head pound, so Raphael looked down, kneeling and clasping his hands together. The weight of the church felt like it was placed squarely on his shoulders, threatening to crush him. He didn't belong there.

Raphael didn't give a damn.

The prayers stuck in his throat at first, but Raphael forced them out. His mouth filled with blood, but he swallowed it.

 _Lord God, we praise you for creating man, and still more for restoring him in Christ._

The very church hurt, but Raphael remained on his knees. He could feel his skin burning where it made contact with any consecrated objects, but he ignored it.

 _Your Son shared our weakness: may we share his glory-_

 _May we share his glory-_

 _For he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God-_

 _One God for ever and ever. Amen._

Raphael's mouth was full of blood, his body was engulfed by the flames of hell themselves, and he would not let it stop him. He would not-

"Raphael, that's enough," a soft voice said as a cool hand settled on Raphael's shoulder. Raphael let his head hang, his prayer dwindling to an end. Magnus helped him up and half-carried him out of the church.

"It's snowing," Raphael whispered as they reached the sidewalk, the cool flakes soothing his burning body. He spat a globule of blood on the ground. Silently, Magnus snapped and the blood vanished.

"I'll take you back to my apartment," Magnus told Raphael. "You shouldn't go to the Dumort in your state." Raphael didn't argue; he knew it was true. He was leaning more heavily on Magnus than he would have preferred, but the alternate was falling, which he wanted even less.

"Merry Christmas, Raphael," Magnus said quietly after a few blocks of silence.

"Merry Christmas, Bane," Raphael replied.

The world was peaceful as the snow softly fell.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: Magnus, Ragnor, and Catarina's Christmas_

"What should we do for Christmas this year?" Magnus asked late on Christmas Eve, shooting sparks lazily up into the air as he lounged sideways across a chair.

"Keep your feet away from me," Ragnor scolded, kicking Magnus' legs as he swung them dangerously close to Ragnor's side. Magnus blew a raspberry at Ragnor and turned to Catarina.

"Catarina, my beautiful blueberry, what do _you_ want to do for Christmas?" he asked. Catarina rolled her eyes, not answering. "If no one says anything, I'm going to be forced to figure things out all by myself," Magnus warned. "That means glitter. Lots of it."

"No. Glitter," Ragnor stated firmly. Magnus shrugged.

"Then you come up with a better idea."

"We could go to Peru," Ragnor suggested innocently. "Or, wait, Catarina and I could. You can't come along, Magnus. So sad."

"You are a terrible friend," Magnus told Ragnor with the saddest look he could muster. "Catarina, you're my only hope. What should we do?"

"We could just stay here," Catarina suggested. Magnus shook his head.

"Not an option, Alright, let's start listing off places we could go. London-"

"Fairly dismal weather at Christmas," Ragnor commented.

"-or Paris-"

"I have no desire to hear the Marie Antoinette story again," Catarina replied.

"Then why don't you come up with some suggestions?" Magnus huffed. Catarina sighed.

"Someplace warm," she offered. "New York is cold."

"I don't know how you two dragged me here for the holidays," Ragnor muttered under his breath. "I should have stayed in Idris."

"Oh, stop your whining," Magnus scolded. "Catarina, good idea. Warm. We could do Barcelona?"

"You always leave us behind to flirt whenever we go to Spain," Catarina complained. Magnus shrugged.

"Fair enough. Southern Italy?"

"I don't like Italian. Too many vowels," Ragnor replied, shaking his head. Magnus stared at him for a moment.

"I can't believe we're friends. Alright. Any other ideas?"

"We could go to Los Angeles," Catarina suggested. Magnus arched an eyebrow.

"Where Malcolm is?" he asked in a teasing voice. "You want to see Malcolm, don't you?"

"Oh, not this again," Catarina sighed.

"You know he has a huge crush on you, right?" Magnus asked. "Then why do you keep stringing him on? You wouldn't, unless you like him back. Et voila, you want to go to L.A. to see Malcolm."

"Have you ever found Magnus' logic to make sense?" Catarina asked Rangor. He shrugged.

"No, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a bit of a point."

"See!" Magnus cried, jabbing a finger towards Catarina.

"Do you like Malcolm?" Ragnor asked. Catarina rolled her eyes.

"Malcolm is a friend, and I feel badly for him," she explained. "You know he hasn't been the same since his…incident. Anyway, he's not the only thing in L.A. I want to see. It's warm there. And the Blackthorns run the Institute, so Tessa will probably be there as well."

"Nice try," Magnus told Catarina. "Tessa's spending the holiday in London this year. But good effort."

"Are you saying you don't want to go to L.A.?" Catarina asked. Magnus shrugged.

"It's as good a place as any," he replied. "Do you think Malcolm would let us stay with him, or do we have to get a hotel? Or are we not going to stay long enough for a hotel anyway?"

"If Catarina asks, we'll be able to stay with Malcolm," Ragnor muttered. Catarina glared at him.

"I thought I could trust you to be on my side, at least," she accused. Ragnor shrugged.

"It's true," he replied. "Even if you're not into him-"

"Which you are!" Magnus cried. He was ignored.

"-He's into you," Ragnor finished. "Call Malcolm up and ask if he wants any company for Christmas."

"It's late," Catarina protested weakly. Magnus shook his head.

"Ah, ah, ah," he scolded, "you're forgetting the time zone difference. L.A. is three hours behind us. Just because it's-" Magnus checked his watch. "Oh. It's five of midnight. That means it'll be Christmas in five minutes! I'll go get champagne. Catarina, my sapphire darling, call Malcolm and ask about visiting tomorrow, it's not quite nine there."

"Fine," Catarina huffed, crossing to the telephone and dialing Malcolm's number. "He may not answer. He can be eccentric about- Oh, hello, Malcolm!"

Magnus met Ragnor's eye and shook his head sadly. Ragnor rolled his eyes.

"Weren't you going to get champagne?" he hissed. Magnus jumped upright.

"Thank you for the reminder, my sweet emerald prince." Ragnor groaned at the nickname as Magnus scurried off to the kitchen. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Malcolm says we can stay as long as we like. He'll be expecting us tomorrow morning," Catarina stated a minute later, hanging up the phone.

"Marvelous," Magnus replied, stepping back in the living room with a bottle of champagne and three champagne flutes floating behind him. The glasses floated out to hover in front of everyone, and the champagne poured itself into them.

"Show-off," Ragnor muttered.

"My dear friends," Magnus stated magnanimously, "it will be Christmas in" - he checked his watch - "one minute and seven seconds. Let me tell you, there is no where I'd rather spend Christmas than right here, with you." Ragnor and Catarina lifted their glasses. "What, no agreement?" Magnus cried, his eyes going wide. "Is there someone else you'd rather see on Christmas?"

"As crazy as this may make me, no," Catarina sighed. Ragnor looked from Catarina to Magnus.

"Oh, alright, I'm enjoying this Christmas as well," he huffed. "Magnus, how long until it's officially Christmas?"

"Not long," Magnus replied, bouncing slightly in his seat. "Oh, I love Christmas."

"Wait," Ragnor said, suddenly looking worried. "Magnus, don't-"

"Five!" Magnus yelled.

"-even-"

"Four!"

"-think-"

"Three!"

"-about-"

"Two!"

"-celebrating-"

"One!"

"-with-"

"Merry Christmas!" Magnus yelled, as glitter exploded from the ceilings, covering everything. Ragnor groaned.

"Glitter," he finished dismally. Catarina laughed, brushing glitter off Ragnor's shoulder.

"Sometimes," she told him in an undertone, as Magnus took a cheery sip of his magically glitter-free champagne, "when it comes to Magnus, you just have to go with it."


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: Mark's Christmas_

By Mark's estimation, it was Christmas. Time moved differently in Faerie, but Mark thought that it had been the right amount of days.

Christmas without his family was strange. Mark remembered them - he would not allow himself to forget - but some of the memories had grown hazy. Still, he knew that he always spent Christmas with his family. For this year, Helen had been planning to come back to Los Angeles with Aline, and there had even been talk of Uncle Arthur coming to visit as well.

Instead, Mark was stuck in Faerie, and who knew what had happened to his family?

Mark lay down on the ground, looking up at the stars. He would name them after his siblings, so he wouldn't forget, and with each one, he would remember what he had gotten his family for Christmas. All of the presents he'd bought were wrapped and in his closet at home, where all the Blackthorn children hid their presents. It was something of an unwritten rule that the children would all put their presents in their closets, and through the months of November and December, everyone knew not to look. Mark wondered if the other would find his presents and open them, or if they would leave them there, leaving his room untouched until some other family took over the Institute and cleared out the rooms. He hoped they would find the presents; even if he couldn't give them out himself, he wanted his family to have them.

The first star Mark saw, the brightest, was Helen. His sister by blood, the eldest, the one who kept them all together, even when she was off with Aline. Mark had bought her a scarf, silky and beautiful and the same blue-green as their eyes. The same blue-green as only one of Mark's eyes, now.

The next star was Julian, the little artist. Mark had bought him a watercolor set, knowing that Julian had wanted to experiment with more than just his oil paints. Mark knew that Julian had painted everyone pictures for Christmas, despite his attempts at subtlety. Mark didn't know what Julian had painted, though; he wished he could see it.

Next to Julian was Emma; not technically family, but close enough that Mark had bought her a present too. He'd gotten her throwing knives from the weapons shop in Idris - the name of which was annoyingly elusive - after she mentioned that she wanted to try them out. Mark knew Emma would be good at using them; she seemed to be good at using any weapon she picked up.

Below Emma and Julian was Ty, short for- Mark closed his eyes, trying to remember. _Ty, short for-_ The name came to him with a flash of insight: _Tiberius_. Little Tiberius, always so solemn and removed. Mark had bought him a set of Sherlock Holmes stories. He knew that Ty had read them already, but Ty liked owning things, and Mark hoped the gift would be a success.

Next was Ty's twin, and Mark's heart pounded when he couldn't remember her name. It was another Roman name, since his father had given them all Roman names. And Ty's namesake was related to his twin's in some way - was it mother and son? Husband and wife? Mark couldn't remember. Her name was… Her name was… Not Lucie, not Elaine, but something that started with an L…?

 _Livia_ , Mark remembered suddenly, the name slipping into his mind as if it had always been there. Sweet Livia, so protective of her family and her twin especially. Mark had bought her a lovely notebook, knowing she liked to write in a diary every day. Mark had found a notebook with a deep purple cover and gold swirling designs for her.

Next was Drusilla, sweet little Drusilla, still too young to bear Marks or begin training. Mark had bought her a book, but he couldn't remember the title. Even at only eight years old, Drusilla devoured any book put in front of her. Ty didn't like it when she borrowed his books, but there was some book that Drusilla had loved, so Mark had bought her a copy. He couldn't remember what it was. It didn't matter; Mark remembered her name and face, and that was the most important part.

Then there was the littlest, baby Tavvy, the youngest by far. Mark wondered if Octavian would even remember him as he grew; he was so young. Would Octavian always think of himself as the youngest of six, not of five? Would he think of himself as having two brothers instead of three? Mark had bought him a stuffed bear; Tavvy loved soft things, and the bear had the softest fur that Mark had ever felt.

That was all of his siblings and their presents: Helen and her scarf, Julian and his paints, Emma and her knives, Ty and his book, Livia and her notebook, Drusilla and her book, and Tavvy and his bear. But there was another present in Mark's closet, he suddenly remembered. A present for his father.

Mark's stomach hurt at the thought. He could remember his father being forced to the ground, drinking from that horrible Cup. Mark didn't know what had happened to him after that. Had he died? Had they managed to save him? Mark couldn't say.

But he remembered the present for his father. It had been from all the children. Everyone old enough to have money had pitched in on a frame, which they decorated together. Then, one day when their father was off dealing with a demon problem, their tutor Katerina had taken a family picture of all the children. They'd printed out the picture, put it in the frame, and wrapped it. Somehow, the finished present had ended up in Mark's closet.

And now Mark's father was gone, and so was Katerina, and so was Mark. Helen would take care of them, Mark knew. She would make sure the children were alright. And Julian would help, and he'd have Emma at his side.

But Mark wouldn't be there to watch his little siblings grow up.

"Mark," a voice called. Mark turned his head to see Kieran walking over to him, his gold and silver eyes glowing in the dark.

"Kieran," Mark replied as Kieran lay down on the ground next to Mark, propping himself up on his arm.

"Naming the stars after your family again?" Kieran asked. There was softness in his voice. Kieran could be soft sometimes in a way that the other members of the Hunt weren't. But Kieran wasn't to be trusted, Mark knew. No faerie was.

How long would it be before that rule included Mark himself?

"I'm remembering their names," Mark replied. "And what I got them for Christmas."

"Christmas?" Kieran parroted. "I've never heard of it. Tell me about it."

The distraction was welcome, as Mark thought Kieran had intended. Mark settled himself on the ground so he could comfortably look as Kieran as he talked. "Christmas," he began to explain, "is a gift-giving holiday…"

It wasn't how Mark had intended to celebrate his Christmas - in Faerie with the Wild Hunt, explaining the holiday to another faerie. But, Mark supposed, there were worse things.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: The Christmas Clary, Jonathan, Jocelyn, and Luke Never Had_

"It's snowing!" Clary yelled with a delighted giggle, which would have been much cuter if it weren't six o'clock in the morning.

"Your daughter's awake," Luke mumbled. Jocelyn groaned, burying her face in Luke's chest.

"Why is it that she's always _our_ daughter unless you don't want to deal with her?" she whined, sounding shockingly like her five year old daughter.

"I wanna play in the snow!" Jonathan joined in. There was the sound of him jumping out of his bed, which was always louder than at all necessary.

"And there's your son," Luke added. Jocelyn pulled away and shook her head.

"No way. If it's both of them, we're both getting up. You married me; they're your problem now too." Luke groaned, but he rolled over to the edge of the bed and got up. Jocelyn stumbled out of bed, wrapping her robe around herself. Hopefully, the kids could be negotiated down from going out immediately to having breakfast first.

"You take Clary, I'll take Jonathan?" Luke asked. Jocelyn nodded, going off to her daughter's room. Clary was at the age where she most often wanted her mother and accepted no substitutes. Jonathan, on the other hand, had outgrown that and would listen to either Luke or Jocelyn. As it was, Luke ended up dealing with him more often while Jocelyn took care of Clary.

Clary was babbling at a mile a minute when Jocelyn entered her room. "It's snowing and tomorrow's Christmas and do you think Santa Claus can come in the snow and will he bring Rudolph if it's snowing really badly and can we go outside and make a snowman and-"

"Why don't we start with getting dressed and having breakfast?" Jocelyn asked, laughing. Clary nodded, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "If you ask your dad nicely, he might make pancakes."

Clary's eyes lit up. "Daddy!" she cried, racing down the hall. "Daddy, can you make pancakes?" Jocelyn stood in the doorway smiling, glad that Luke was the only father Clary had ever known. Jonathan had been born before Valentine's death, but he barely remembered his birth father either. Luke was a much better parent than Valentine ever could have been; Jocelyn knew that well.

"You promised her pancakes?" Luke asked Jocelyn, sighing as he left the room with Clary on his hip and Jonathan holding his hand. Jocelyn shook her head, looking as innocent as she could.

"I told her that she had to ask you. I didn't promise anything."

"Will you make them, _please_ , Daddy?" Clary begged, tugging on Luke's shirt. Luke smiled down at her.

"If my little princess wishes for pancakes, then pancakes I shall make."

"And some for me too, right?" Jonathan asked, yanking on Luke's arm. Luke laughed.

"Yes, some for you too," he replied. Jocelyn grinned; she knew that Luke could never say no to her when she looked at him with big eyes, and both Clary and Jonathan had inherited her green eyes and thus had the same power. Luke didn't seem to mind too much, to tell the truth.

"Is there enough snow to make a snowman?" Jonathan asked as he sat down at the table. Jocelyn looked through the window.

"It sure looks like it," she replied. "And it's still snowing. We might be snowed in for a while."

"Does that mean Santa Claus won't be able to come?" Clary cried, sounding horribly distressed. Luke shook his head, tousling her hair as he began making the pancakes.

"Santa Claus will be okay," he assured her. "Now, since it's almost Christmas, what do you think about Christmas tree pancakes?"

"Will they actually look like Christmas trees?" Jocelyn teased.

"Of course they will!" Clary protested. "Daddy always makes the best pancakes."

"See?" Luke told Jocelyn, grinning. "You should listen to your daughter."

The pancakes did look remarkably like Christmas trees, for all of the ten seconds they lasted before Clary and Jonathan devoured them. "Can we go play in the snow now?" Jonathan asked, his green eyes wide. "Please please please please _please_?"

"You need to get dressed first," Jocelyn told Jonathan firmly. "Then you can go play."

"Yay!" Jonathan and Clary cried, both sprinting out of the room as fast as they could. Jocelyn rolled her eyes at Luke.

"I'll clean up in here, you watch the kids," he offered. Jocelyn nodded, pressed a quick kiss to Luke's cheek, and left the kitchen.

"I'm dressed!" Clary cried when Jocelyn went upstairs. Jocelyn looked over to see that Clary had only put on her snowsuit backwards over her pajamas, which hadn't been exactly what Jocelyn had been going for.

"You need to put on clothes first, silly," she told her daughter, tickling her under her chin. Clary giggled. "Jonathan, did you hear that?" Jocelyn called.

"My shirt is stuck!" Jonathan called back, his voice muffled. Jocelyn turned to Clary.

"Take off your snowsuit, sweetie," she told her, going to help Jonathan, who was stumbling around his room with his shirt twisted around his head. Jocelyn saw the problem quickly; he'd tried to put his head through one of the arm holes.

"Jonathan, honey, stay still and I'll help you," Jocelyn told him, grabbing her son's arms and twisting the shirt around to guide Jonathan's head into the proper spot. Jonathan gave her a sweet smile when his face emerged.

"Thanks, Mommy."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Jocelyn replied, kissing Jonathan's forehead. "Can you get yourself dressed the rest of the way?" Jonathan nodded, going over to get out a pair of pants. Jocelyn smiled as she went to help Clary, who had taken off not only her snowsuit but her pajamas as well and was standing naked in the middle of her room.

Parenthood was a job that didn't really allow for any downtime.

"Is everyone ready to play in the snow?" Luke asked when Jocelyn brought the kids downstairs, dressed and ready.

"Yeah!" Jonathan and Clary cheered. Luke opened the door to let them out, quickly moving out of the way as the kids stampeded for the door.

"Is Jonathan wearing his pants inside-out?" Luke asked Jocelyn as Clary threw herself on the ground to make a snow angel and Jonathan ran in circle with his tongue sticking out to catch a snowflake.

"As long as they're on, I don't care," Jocelyn replied, leaning against Luke's shoulder. "We should be grateful for the calm morning."

"Calm?" Luke repeated, raising an eyebrow. Jocelyn nodded.

"Comparatively calm," she repeated. "Remember, tomorrow is Christmas."

Luke looked at Jocelyn and groaned. "We're not getting much sleep tonight, are we?" he asked. Jocelyn laughed, kissing him quickly.

"Definitely not."


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: James, Matthew, and the London Institute's Christmas_

"Well, that was quite a party," Matthew stated, lounging sideways across a chair. James looked up from his new book, grinning at his soon-to-be parabatai.

"That it was," he replied. "You were the center of everything, as usual."

"I'm glad we had Christmas here," Matthew added, leaning his head back over the arm of the chair. "It was lovely to see everyone, and while I would have enjoyed visiting home, Christmas in Idris is always such a mess of people and politics. You simply cannot imagine the madness that goes along with a Consul Christmas party."

"I've been to quite a few," James reminded Matthew. "I think I can imagine well enough."

"But your Christmas wasn't like that!" Matthew cried, sitting up to look at James. "Yes, that little fiasco with the Silent Brothers was a bit of a mess-"

"Mother _told_ Father that he was going too far in this attempt to spend Christmas with Uncle Jem," James muttered under his breath.

"-But otherwise, it was a wonderfully peaceful and lovely Christmas. Although, I will freely admit I had not expected to see Mr. Fell here. Quite a shock, to see one's old teacher away from school."

"He's friends with Magnus Bane," James explained. "And Mother and Father insisted on inviting him for Christmas, so he brought along Mr. Fell and Miss Loss."

"Miss Loss was quite lovely," Matthew remarked nonchalantly. "I will not lie to you; I had not thought to find blue skin so alluring, but-"

"Miss Loss must be at least a few hundred years old!" James interrupted, shocked. Matthew shrugged.

"And yet, she is a beautiful woman," he replied. James rolled his eyes, shoving Matthew in his chair. Matthew flailed for a moment, almost losing his balance and falling off the chair, before righting himself.

"A _parabatai_ is supposed to be _supportive_ ," Matthew scolded, giving James a dirty look. "He should not attempt to push his brother-in-arms from his chair, and he should support his _parabatai_ in romantic endeavors."

"I wasn't aware that was part of the oath," James replied mildly. " _For whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I shall lodge, and when thou findeth a lovely lady, I shall aid thee_."

"An excellent addition," Matthew complimented. "I'll tell Mother to add it to the oath immediately." James rolled his eyes, picking up his book again. Matthew made a disgruntled sound deep in his throat.

"It's too bad that the others had to leave," he remarked. "I would have liked for Thomas and Christopher to stay longer, but alas, I suppose they too had to return to their homes. Even though the Institute is more than large enough for all of them."

"They stayed from Christmas Eve into Christmas," James replied, not looking up from his book. "We cannot expect them to stay forever."

"It would be lovely if they could," Matthew sighed longingly. "They, at least, put down their books when we speak." James pointedly buried his face deeper into his book, just to annoy Matthew.

"Don't tell me you're ignoring your _parabatai_!" Father cried as he entered the room, Mother on his arm. Lucie trailed behind them, scribbling something in a little notebook. "Is that any way to treat your sworn brother?" Father added, shaking an admonishing finger at James.

"We're not _parabatai_ yet," James replied, setting his book down in his lap, still open. "I have time to ignore him."

"Such harsh words!" Matthew cried. Mother rolled her eyes.

"James, you know I support you in whatever you do, but must you have chosen such a ridiculous _parabatai_? He and your father feed off each other so."

"We must be the sensible ones, Mother," James replied gravely. Lucie went over to a chair, not lifting her head from her notebook.

"It was a marvelous party," Father stated, sitting down and pulling Mother into his lap. She yelped, moving to sit next to him. "Although I would have liked if Jem could have stayed longer."

"You should have anticipated the outcome of that attempt," Mother told Father. Father nodded solemnly.

"Yes, and that is why I have a different plan for New Year's."

"No more plans, Father, please," Lucie begged, looking up. "I love Uncle Jem, we all do, but I'd rather not have our New Year's go the way Christmas morning did."

"How was I to know they'd take the message that the Consul needed help so seriously?" Father protested. "I told them all we needed was for Jem to come for the day. They didn't need to overreact so. But for New Year's-"

"For New Year's, you will restrain yourself," Mother told Father seriously. "Perhaps I will find a way to ask for Jem to come, but not for very long. Do you know, I rather believe most of the Silent Brothers dislike you, Will."

"Dislike me?" Father asked, sounding shocked. "I haven't the faintest idea how they could."

"Perhaps because you irritate them to no end," Lucie offered.

"I think it's quite fun," Matthew remarked. "I enjoy coming up with ways to visit Brother Zachariah. It's rather like something out of a novel, isn't it, James?"

"They do always tell us that the _parabatai_ bond transverses all odds," James agreed. "And you make that clear, Father."

"I think I'm off to bed," Mother stated, standing and pulling Father to his feet. "Lucie, you should go to bed as well."

"Boys, don't stay up too late," Father added. "Matthew, I'm entrusting you with a sacred duty. You must be sure that James doesn't spend the whole night reading."

"I shall do what I can," Matthew replied, saluting sharply. James rolled his eyes.

"Mother is right," he muttered. "You and Father do feed off each other horribly."

"Aren't you glad we get along?" Matthew asked innocently. James sighed, not answering. Matthew sighed as well, looking around the room.

"Goodness," he stated. "It's nearly midnight. Christmas is nearly over."

"We ought to go to bed," James replied, but he made no move to get out of his chair or set aside his book. Matthew nodded, standing.

"We should," he replied, crossing to James' chair and holding out a hand. "Come along, Jamie."

"It's _James_ ," James corrected, but he took Matthew's hand and stood.

"Happy Christmas, James," Matthew sighed as he and James started on their way to their rooms. James realized they hadn't released each other's hands, but he didn't really mind.

"Happy Christmas, Matthew," he replied.

As the boys parted, the clock struck twelve.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: The Blackthorns and Carstairs' Christmas_

"The Carstairs are here!"

Julian sprinted down the stairs as fast as he could, racing to the doorway. "Emma!" he cried, running past his father at the door to hug his friend. "You're back!"

"Jules!" Emma cried, squeezing Julian tightly. Her father laughed behind her.

"It seems you two missed each other while we were in Idris," he remarked dryly.

"I got a new crossbow!" Emma told Julian excitedly. "It's so cool. I can't wait to show you."

"A crossbow?" Julian repeated eagerly. He loved crossbows. "Guess what Mark taught me?"

"Did you finally get him to teach you that knife trick?" Emma demanded. Julian nodded proudly. "What? I thought he wouldn't show us until we were older!"

"I got him to teach me it now," Julian replied smugly. Emma shoved him.

"Not fair! Can he teach me?"

"You'll have to ask him," Julian replied in a superior voice. Emma looked about ready to run off and ask Mark immediately, but before she could, her mother coughed pointedly behind them.

"Can we come in?" she asked, amusement in her tone. Emma flushed, moving out of the doorway and dragging Julian with her. Her parents entered the Institute, embracing Julian's father.

"Do you have a tree set up?" Emma's mother asked, holding up the bags in her hands. "We have some things to put under it."

"Presents?" Drusilla asked, her eyes wide. Julian turned to see that all his siblings had emerged from the living room to greet the Carstairs. Emma hugged everyone obligingly, tousling baby Octavian's hair and kissing his cheek. Julian didn't understand why girls liked babies so much; Tavvy was fairly boring, in his opinion, but Emma and her mother were cooing over him as Helen held him on her hip.

"Cordelia, let me take the presents," Emma's father murmured, taking the bags from his wife. "I'll put them under the tree."

"I want another little one, but John doesn't think it's the right time," Emma's mother told Helen when Emma's father had gone into the other room.

"Feel free to help with all of these little ones," Helen replied dryly. "This one is a terror," she added, nodding at Julian, "and Mark doesn't have any idea what to do with babies."

"He's not a terror!" Emma protested. Her mother laughed.

"At least I don't have to worry about Emma not having siblings, since she seems to have adopted all of you," she told Helen, who laughed.

"She spends about as much time here as she does with you, I believe," she replied. Bored with the conversation, Julian tugged on Emma's hand.

"Come look at what Dad gave me for Christmas!" he told Emma, running with her to the training room. Once there, he proudly presented Emma with the set of throwing knives his father had given him.

"Wow," Emma breathed, looking at the knives. "These are _grown-up_ throwing knives!"

"I know," Julian replied, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Dad said he knew I deserved them after he saw me doing Mark's trick. They used to be his!"

"Can you show me how to do the trick?" Emma begged. "Please?"

"Emma!" her mother called before Julian could reply. "Come downstairs, we're going to open presents."

"I can't wait for you to open the present I got you!" Emma told Julian eagerly, dragging him down the stairs. Julian allowed himself to be pulled, running with Emma to the others.

"Be careful on those stairs," his father warned when they skidded into the living room. "It wouldn't be a very fun Christmas if you broke your neck."

"Can we open the presents now?" Livia asked, looking around excitedly. Seeing that Tiberius wasn't paying attention, she tugged on her twin's sleeve. "Ty, present time!"

"Emma, do you want to pass the presents out?" her mother asked. Emma nodded, grabbing presents from under the tree and passing them to the people they belonged to. Julian's was a surprisingly large and heavy box.

"Open it!" Emma encouraged Julian when she finished her task, sitting next to him. Julian eagerly ripped open the wrapping paper, revealing a box from Diana's Arrow. "Open it up!" Emma told Julian, shoving him lightly. Julian took the top off the box to reveal a brand-new crossbow.

"I got you the same one I got!" Emma told him eagerly. "So we can have matching weapons!"

"Cool!" Julian replied, hugging Emma tightly.

"Emma, don't you want to open your present from the Blackthorns?" her father asked. Emma looked over.

"Okay!" she replied, moving to get up. Julian grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Wait, I have something for you first," he told Emma, pulling a bracelet out of his pocket and handing it over shyly.

"Jules, it's so pretty!" Emma gasped as she took the bracelet.

"It's turquoise, your favorite," Julian told Emma. The bracelet was simple, a string of small turquoise rocks with a gold clasp at the end. "I thought you'd like it."

"It looks like your eyes," Emma told Julian with a giggle, holding the bracelet up to his face to compare the colors. "Put it on me!" Julian obligingly helped with the clasp, securing the bracelet onto Emma's wrist.

"Thanks, Jules," Emma said, hugging Julian again and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Before Julian could react, Emma went over to her parents, tearing open the wrapping on the present from Julian's family, which he knew contained a new set of gear, considering it had been one of Ty's experiments that had ruined her last set.

When Emma shot Julian another grin as she opened the wrapping, he felt a strange but pleasant heat coil in the bottom of his stomach. He smiled back. No matter what, Julian knew he would never have a closer friend than Emma.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: The Lightwood's Christmas_

"Alec," Jace hissed. Alec rolled over to face the door, squinting at the light coming from the hallway. Jace's silhouette was visible in the doorway. "Alec, are you awake?"

"I am now," Alec muttered, pushing himself upright. "Jace, it's the middle of the night. What's wrong?"

Jace's body language looked uncomfortable. Alec reached for his witchlight, blinking as it lit up his room. Jace ducked his head, hiding it in shadow.

"This is stupid," he muttered. "G'night, Alec."

"Jace, wait-" Jace turned to leave, but Alec jumped out of bed and grabbed Jace's arm before he could go anywhere. "You wouldn't have woken me up if you didn't want to talk," Alec reasoned. "So… Let's talk."

To Alec's surprise, Jace sighed and sat on Alec's bed. "Tomorrow's Christmas," he stated. Alec sat down next to him, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, and?"

"I've never done Christmas before," Jace admitted. "My dad and I… We never…"

"Oh," Alec replied. It was a woefully pathetic response, but he didn't know what to say.

"And while I am amazing, I don't know everything," Jace joked, but his heart wasn't in it. "How do you do Christmas?"

"Christmas is the best," Isabelle stated from the doorway. Both Alec and Jace jumped.

"How do you do that?" Alec asked Izzy, scowling. She shrugged.

"I'm just better than you," she replied airily. "Anyway, Christmas is awesome, Jace. You get presents, and Mom makes dinner, and we all have hot chocolate. It's super fun."

"So is it like a day off?" Jace asked. Izzy shrugged.

"There's no training, yeah. We just have fun."

"What about that weird guy in the red suit?" Jace asked curiously.

"Santa?" Izzy asked. Jace nodded.

"He's not real," Alec told Jace. Izzy elbowed him.

"Santa's this mundane story about some fat guy in a red suit who brings presents to kids," she explained. "They say he goes around the whole world on a sled."

"A sleigh," Alec corrected.

"And it's pulled by flying moose."

"Reindeer."

"Flying reindeer?" Jace repeated dubiously. Izzy nodded.

"Eight of them. I think. And one of them has a red nose that lights up." Jace looked puzzled. "Mundanes are weird," Izzy added in explanation.

"My dad once told me about a demon with a red nose," Jace mused. "I don't think it lit up, but it went around on four legs. Maybe that's where the idea came from."

"You know, all the stories are true," Izzy said in a mock-serious voice.

"I don't think the story of Santa is true," Alec countered in a superior tone. "Only mundane children actually believe it."

"Wait." Jace frowned. "When Robert took me clothes shopping a couple days ago, I saw a guy dressed up in a red suit. Was that Santa?"

"Mundanes dress up like Santa and pretend to be him," Izzy explained.

"And they have movies and shows about him," Alec added. "Mundanes really like the story."

"And little kids believe Santa's real," Izzy continued. "Their parents don't tell them he isn't until they're older."

"Why?" Jace asked, frowning. "Shouldn't they know?"

"It's just for fun," Izzy replied, shrugging.

"The kids like it," Alec added. Jace nodded slowly.

"But do they really think he goes around the entire world in one night?"

Alec wasn't quite sure when everyone fell asleep, but the last thing he remembered was Izzy doing a horribly incorrect recitation of _The Night Before Christmas_. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a tangle of limbs, Jace's head on his stomach and Izzy's legs over his. The clock told him it was nearly seven. No matter how much he strained, Alec couldn't hear anything in the rest of the Institute. Max normally didn't wake up this early, and since Christmas was, as he and Izzy explained to Jace, a day off from training, there was no reason for anyone to be up already. Alec didn't know quite why he was; he decided it had to be habit.

Lying under Jace and Izzy wasn't exactly comfortable - his left arm was asleep, Izzy's heel was digging into the back of his knee, and Jace's head was awkwardly pressing into his ribs - but Alec found he didn't mind. Lying together was surprisingly nice, even though Alec's bed was no where near big enough for three.

The peace and quiet only lasted for about another ten minutes before Izzy groaned, tried to roll over, and fell off the bed. Their tangled legs meant she tugged Alec along with her, who accidentally pulled Jace on top of him. The resulting crash was loud enough to echo through the Institute, and sure enough, Alec heard Max let out a wail a moment later.

"Ow," Izzy groaned. "Alec, get off me!"

"Jace is on me!" Alec protested, shoving Jace to the side. Blinking slowly and not looking fully awake, Jace slid off the pile, letting Alec push himself back on the bed, thus freeing Izzy. The blood rushed back into Alec's arm, making itself known in a million pinprick feelings all over it. Max was still crying in the other room.

"Merry Christmas!" Izzy tried, grinning. Alec groaned, flopping face-first onto his bed. Jace looked at the two of them warily.

"If this is how Christmas starts, then I'm not sure how much I want to be a part of it," he replied.

"Most Christmases don't start like this," Izzy assured him. "Only the super fun ones do."

"Fun?" Jace repeated, eyes wide. Alec groaned again, louder this time.

"Can I guess that you three were what made that crash?" Maryse asked, appearing in the doorway with Max on her hip. Robert was behind her, yawning.

"Sorry, Mom," Izzy and Alec chorused. Maryse rolled her eyes.

"Since we're all up, who wants French toast for breakfast?"

"Me!" Izzy squealed, jumping upright. Alec sat up.

"Alright," Maryse replied, a smile on her face. She passed Max over to Robert as she went to the kitchen, Izzy following her. Jace looked a bit concerned.

"Izzy's not helping, right?" he asked Alec in an undertone.

"Mom doesn't want us to die," Alec retorted. Jace grinned. "Merry Christmas," Alec added.

"Merry Christmas," Jace replied. "Do you think it'll be super fun, like Izzy said?"

"Yeah," Alec replied, grinning as Jace slung an arm around his shoulders. "I think it will be."


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: Clary, Jocelyn, and Luke's Christmas_

Clary woke up before anyone else on Christmas, savoring the quiet. Her mom, she knew, was probably still sleeping, and Luke wasn't due to be there until ten. For a few minutes, Clary just lay in her bed, enjoying the peace.

Then she leapt out of bed and ran out of her bedroom. It was eight thirty, it was Christmas, and Clary was going to wake her mom up to open presents.

"Merry Christmas, Mom!" Clary cried as she ran into her mom's room. Jocelyn raised her head from her pillow, still looking rather bleary.

"I thought you'd grow out of this by fifteen," she groaned. Clary giggled.

"It's Christmas, mom," she retorted. "No way."

"What time is it?" Jocelyn asked.

"Half past eight," Clary replied. "Come _on_ , Mom, get up!"

"Luke's getting here at ten, right?" Jocelyn asked, sitting up in bed and reaching out for her robe.

"Yeah," Clary replied, bouncing in anticipation. Jocelyn nodded.

"Then I can go back to sleep at ten," she said to herself. Clary groaned loudly.

"Mom, it's _Christmas_. Have some fun. Come on, get _up_!"

"I'm getting up, I'm getting up," Jocelyn replied, getting up and putting on her robe. Clary dragged her out to the living room, where the tree was beautifully lit with a small pile of presents under it.

"Merry Christmas, Mom," Clary said again, pulling Jocelyn onto the couch with her. "Open my present." Clary grabbed the present she'd made for her mother, handing it to her. Jocelyn raised an eyebrow.

"This is heavy."

"Open it!" Clary begged. Jocelyn tore open the wrapping.

"Oh, Clary," she said quietly, pulling the wrapping away from the frame to reveal the colored pencil portrait of her. "It's beautiful." She pulled Clary into a tight hug before standing and propping the portrait up on the coffee table. "I suppose it fits with the present I got you," she added, passing Clary one of her presents. Clary tore into it excitedly to reveal a new pack of colored pencils.

"Awesome!" Clary cried. "I worked a bunch of mine down to stumps making presents. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, honey," Jocelyn replied. "Now, open the rest!" Clary eagerly ripped open the wrapping paper on the other presents, revealing a new sweater, a cashmere scarf, and some more art supplies.

"Do you like everything?" Jocelyn asked. Clary flipped the scarf around her neck.

"I like it a lot," Clary replied, hugging her mom. Jocelyn held her tightly. Clary's stomach interrupted the touching moment when it growled loudly.

"Hungry, are you?" Jocelyn asked with a laugh. "I can't make pancakes as good as Luke's, but I can make eggs for us."

"Sounds good to me!" Clary replied, scooping up her new art supplies and bringing them to her room. Her gift for Luke was wrapped and sitting on her desk. She picked it up, bringing it out to the living room.

"Luke texted me. He's going to be here early," Jocelyn told Clary, grinning slightly.

"What a surprise," Clary replied dryly. Luke was chronically early, which Clary supposed was better than being chronically late. "How early?"

"He'll be here in about half an hour, he said," Jocelyn replied. "So he'll probably actually be here in fifteen minutes."

"Wow," Clary replied, nodding slowly. "An hour early. That's better than last year." The year before, Luke had shown up nearly three hours early, getting there for breakfast instead of lunch. Clary and Jocelyn knew better than to expect him to be anywhere on time. Christmas was the most prominent example of this; normally, Luke was closer to ten or twenty minutes early, not an hour.

Luke arrived fifteen minutes later, as Jocelyn had predicted, bearing fresh bagels to go with the eggs Jocelyn had made. "Merry Christmas!" Clary cried, squeezing him in a tight hug. Luke hugged her with one arm, holding a bag of presents in the other.

"Merry Christmas, Clary," he replied, holding out the bag. Clary raced to put it under the tree.

"Clary drew me a beautiful portrait for Christmas," Jocelyn told Luke. "It's in the living room. You can look at it after breakfast."

"Eggs?" Luke asked, getting out plates. Jocelyn nodded.

"And bagels, now," she replied.

"Then we can do presents," Clary added eagerly. Luke grinned.

"What makes you think you have any presents?" he countered. Clary rolled her eyes.

"You try that every year. I haven't fallen for it since I was four and you made me cry. You can't tell a lie to save your life. I don't think you've ever kept a secret from me." For a moment, Clary thought Luke and Jocelyn shared a look, but it was over almost before it began, if it had happened at all.

"Do you want cream cheese on your bagel?" Jocelyn asked, grabbing the cream cheese out of the refrigerator.

"Of course I do," Clary retorted; she hadn't had a bagel without cream cheese in her life. Jocelyn passed it to her, putting the serving bowl of eggs onto the table.

"Merry Christmas, Clary," Luke said again, squeezing Clary's shoulders. Clary smiled as she spread cream cheese on her bagel.

"Merry Christmas."


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: Helen and Aline's Christmas_

"He-len," Aline called in a sing-song voice. Helen groaned and pulled the covers over her head. "Helen, guess what day it is?"

"Bite me," Helen muttered under her breath. She, unlike Aline, was not even remotely a morning person.

"Helen!" Aline yanked Helen's covers off, which was utterly unfair, especially considering they in the middle of the Arctic Ocean and thus always freezing.

"What is it?" Helen demanded, sitting up. Aline laughed, smoothing Helen's unruly curls. "Aline, I swear on the Angel, if you woke me up to play with my hair-"

"So you honestly don't know what day it is?" Aline asked. Helen thought for a moment. "It's Christmas, you dummy!" Aline drew Helen in for a lingering kiss. _I'm kissing my wife,_ Helen thought in delight. It hadn't yet been a month, and she couldn't stop the rush of pleasure and disbelief when she remembered that she and Aline were indeed married.

"Merry Christmas," Helen mumbled against Aline's lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," Aline replied. Helen lingered for a moment before a new thought occurred to her.

"The kids!" she cried. Aline raised her eyebrows in question. "The kids, my brothers and sisters. We need to wish them a Merry Christmas!"

"We're almost a full day ahead of them, remember?" Aline replied. "It's only Christmas Eve for them." Helen had forgotten; she could never keep track of the time difference. "We can still Skype them, though."

"And there's the Christmas party later," Helen added. The party wasn't especially interesting, but it was better than nothing. "I heard Selene saying that they have candy canes."

"And we have our coffee maker," Aline added; the year before, their coffee had been a big treat at the Christmas party.

"Bless Magnus Bane," Helen replied wholeheartedly. Aline laughed.

"So…" she asked, trailing her fingers through Helen's hair. "What are we going to do for Christmas?"

"I have a little something for you," Helen replied, getting up and crossing to the closet. Aline laughed.

"Do I finally get to figure out what you hid in the closet?" she asked. Helen glared.

"I told you, my family always hides presents in the closet. I've never had to share one with anyone before."

"What did you get?" Aline asked eagerly. Helen smiled, handing Aline the wrapped box.

"Remember when I went to Idris, to speak at the Shadowhunter Academy?" she asked. Aline nodded. "Isabelle came up to visit, so she could see Simon. While she was there, I sent her on a mission to pick up something for me in the city." Helen gestured at the box. Aline's eyes lit up as she eagerly opened the box.

"Oh, Helen," she whispered, her fingers tracing the delicate chain of the locket in the box. "It's beautiful."

"Look inside," Helen urged. Aline popped the locket open. "I got some help from your parents," Helen added as Aline gasped. Inside the locket were pictures of Jia and Patrick Penhallow. "I know you miss them," Helen added in a softer, more serious voice. "I thought you'd like to have pictures of them you can always have with you."

"Thank you," Aline whispered, pulling Helen into a tight hug. Helen held her equally tightly, so grateful that she was there.

"We had similar ideas for presents," Aline added when she pulled away. Helen raised an eyebrow.

"Did we?" she asked. Aline nodded, grabbing the computer.

"I had Julian help me with this one," she told Helen, opening up a folder on the computer. Helen gasped. "He went around and took pictures of all your family photos," Aline explained, opening up the pictures. "Then he sent them to me. It's not the same as actually seeing them, but…"

"It's good enough," Helen whispered. "Thank you, Aline."

"I know you miss them," Aline added quietly. "I'm so sorry we had to leave."

" _I_ had to leave," Helen corrected. Aline nodded.

"Just like I said. We had to leave, because where you go, I go."

"We're not _parabatai_ ," Helen replied with a little giggle. Aline grinned.

"I'm glad we're not," she replied. "We wouldn't be able to do this." Helen's giggles were stifled by Aline's lips on hers. Aline kissed as if her life depended on it. Helen kissed as if Aline could disappear any second.

"I love you," Helen whispered. Aline pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you too. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Helen replied. "Should we call the kids?"

"Yeah," Aline replied with a smile, "let's call the kids."

 _"Helen!"_ Livia cried as she answered the Skype call. _"GUYS, IT'S HELEN!"_ she yelled to call the others. Helen laughed.

"It's Christmas Eve, right?" she asked. Livia nodded.

 _"But it's Christmas for you, right? Merry Christmas!"_

"Merry almost Christmas to you too," Helen replied, wishing she could hug Livia instead of just see her through a screen.

The others filed into the room, although Helen felt the painful absence of Mark. _"Merry Christmas!"_ Julian called, grinning with Octavian on his hip. For a moment, the feeling of missing them hit Helen like a blow.

"Hi guys," Aline said, knowing that Helen needed a minute. "How are you?"

Immediately, all of the kids began talking over each other. Helen let out a slightly watery laugh as she watched them.

She wasn't home, but Aline was behind her and she was talking to her brothers and sisters, and that was enough.


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11: The Christmas the New York Institute Never Had_

All the presents had been opened, the morning rush had worn off, and Max Lightwood was curled up in a chair, reading the manga Clary had given him. All in all, it had been a fairly good Christmas.

"Where do you think you're going?" Maryse asked Isabelle as she grabbed her boots and her coat, clearly ready to leave. Max looked up from his manga. He seemed to be the only one paying attention; Alec was murmuring with Magnus in the corner and Jace was lying with Clary on the couch.

"Off to see Simon," Isabelle replied, shrugging on her coat. "You know, Jewish vampire and Christmas in a church don't really mix."

"Tell him I said hi," Clary called from the couch. Isabelle nodded as she slid a knife in her boot.

"Be careful," Maryse warned. "And don't forget, I'm cooking dinner tonight."

"'Kay," Isabelle replied as she left. Maryse sighed.

"Max, why don't you send a fire message to your father?" she asked. Max frowned.

"I don't know how to do it myself," he replied.

"I'll help," Alec offered, kissing Magnus quickly before crossing to Max. For a moment, Max was confused as to why his brother was leaving Magnus - they'd been attached at the hip all day - but then he saw Magnus drift out of the room, his phone against his ear.

"A friend of his," Alec explained before Max even had to ask. "Catarina Loss. Remember, the blue one?" Max vaguely remembered meeting Catarina once before, when he, Jace, and Isabelle had gone over to visit Magnus and Alec in Brooklyn and there had been company over already.

"Do you think Dad will be able to make it for New Year's?" Max asked. Alec shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied. He wasn't particularly good at pretending to be nonchalant about it. Max knew that there was tension between Robert and Alec and had been since Alec came out. They were civil with each other, but even Max could tell that something had changed when Alec first told everyone that he was dating Magnus Bane. Things seemed to be getting better, though, and Max had hope that things would work out somehow.

Max scrawled a quick message to Robert and handed the paper over to Alec, who wrote the rune for fire in the corner. The paper burned away to Robert. Max hoped he saw it soon.

"Catarina wanted to know if I was going to join her and Ragnor in London," Magnus explained when he came back. He tousled Max's hair with a grin. Max glared at him; he didn't like it when people messed with his hair.

"Magnus, look at this," Alec said, flipping through Max's manga.

"You're doing it the wrong way," Max scolded. Alec frowned at him.

"Huh?"

"You read it the opposite way you read an English book," Max explained. Alec frowned down at the book.

"That explains why the front cover is on the back," he muttered. "But Magnus, look at this guy." Magnus looked down at the book and laughed.

"What?" Max cried, peering up at the book. Alec was pointing at one of the characters who, Max realized, had quite a resemblance to Magnus.

"Who's that?" Magnus asked Max. Max narrowed his eyes, trying to identify the character.

"I don't know," he replied. "I haven't gotten there yet. I'm only on book two, and this is book four. Clary might know who it is."

"I don't know that we should bother her right now," Magnus said in an undertone. Max looked over to see Clary and Jace kissing on the couch, looking as if they had no idea that anyone else was in the room.

"Yeah," Alec replied quickly, turning his back. Before they could say anything else, a fire message burst into existence in front of Max.

"It's from Dad!" Max cried, looking at the note. "He says he can come right now!"

"I'll set up a Portal on our end," Magnus replied, standing. Max followed him.

"Can I come with you?" he asked. Magnus grinned down at Max.

"I like you," he stated. "Come on."

"I'll tell Mom," Alec murmured, crossing over to Maryse as Magnus and Max went into the backyard.

"Does he say a time?" Magnus asked. Max looked down at the message.

"He says noon," he replied. Magnus pulled a pocket watch out of his pocket and checked it.

"Alright, I'll set the Portal up in a minute," he replied.

"I'm so glad Dad's gonna be here for Christmas," Max exclaimed, bouncing. Magnus grinned, but Max didn't think it reached his eyes.

"Perhaps I'll leave," he murmured. "So you can have a family Christmas."

"Clary's here," Max countered. "And you're Alec's boyfriend, so you're almost family."

"I don't know if your father will feel that way," Magnus replied, sparks flying from his fingers as he set up a Portal. Max felt like he ought to say something, but before he could, the Portal roared to life and Robert stepped through.

"Dad!" Max yelled, running forward to hug his father tightly. Robert hugged him back.

"Hi, Max," he chuckled. "Where's everyone else?"

"In the living room," Max replied. "Except Magnus. He helped with the Portal."

"Thank you," Robert told Magnus, reaching out to shake his hand. Magnus accepted it, although he looked a bit surprised.

"I told you it'd be okay," Max muttered to Magnus with a smug look before grabbing Robert's hand and dragging him into the Institute.

"Robert," Maryse said as Robert entered the living room. "Merry Christmas."

"Hi, Dad," Jace called. He and Clary, Max noticed, had finally stopped kissing.

"Hey, Dad," Alec said quietly. Robert turned to him.

"Can we talk for a minute, son?" he asked. Alec looked surprised, but followed his father into the corner of the room. Max noticed that Magnus looked worried, so he dragged him back to his manga, flipping through the book with him. Magnus seemed like he was really interested and not just humoring Max, but Max could see his eyes flicker up to Alec and Robert. Max had to admit, he was doing the same.

Max watched as Robert clapped Alec on the shoulder before walking away. Alec made eye contact with Magnus for half a second, but it was enough for Magnus to know what he wanted. "Sorry, Max," he murmured, crossing the room to Alec. As Max watched, they embraced, Alec whispering something in Magnus' ear.

Max looked around the room. Jace and Clary were talking on the couch, Magnus and Alec were hugging in the corner, and Robert and Maryse were talking quietly by Maryse's chair. Max grinned and picked up his book.

All in all, he thought it had been a very good Christmas after all.


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12: Tessa, Will, and Brother Zachariah's Christmas_

"Will, what on earth have you done?" Tessa demanded. Will, far from looking ashamed of himself, beamed.

"I've brought along a Christmas guest," he replied. "We couldn't have Christmas without Jem."

Brother Zachariah's face was covered by his hood, but Tessa knew exactly what face Jem would have at this sort of foolishness from Will. "I really ought to leave," he protested. Will shook his head.

"You simply cannot. I told you, I'm feeling quite horrible. I may very well require a Silent Brother, and you shall be the one I have on call."

"You're _fine_ ," Tessa protested. A cry sounded from the bedroom. "Although you won't be for much longer," she grumbled under her breath. James had woken up, and from the sound of it, he wasn't particularly happy.

"Oh, my little darling," Tessa cooed as she picked James out from the bassinet. He thrashed his tiny fists, face screwed up in anger. "My sweet Jamie, I'm sorry that your father woke you."

"He's a lovely child," Brother Zachariah said quietly. Tessa jumped; she hadn't realized he was behind her. James sucked in a breath and stopped crying when he caught sight of Brother Zachariah, a figure he saw as often as Will could manage it. James was always fascinated by the unfamiliar sight, although he wailed whenever a different Silent Brother approached him.

"May I?" Brother Zachariah asked. Tessa handed James over, smiling as he reached up for the low hood over Brother Zachariah's face. With a gurgle, James pushed it off.

Brother Zachariah's hair had no more silver in it, save one pale lock against the black. His eyes were closed, but not stitched shut or gone. He had not yet mastered the trick of speaking into someone's mind, so nor was his mouth stitched shut. Tessa didn't think it ever would be. Unlike many of the Silent Brothers, who seemed to age so quickly, Brother Zachariah still looked youthful; his appearance had barely aged in the past years. Still, despite the differences, the harsh black runes on his cheeks marked him as a Silent Brother and a Shadowhunter no more.

"He looks like his father," Brother Zachariah said quietly. "But with all the beauty of his mother."

"Will you really be able to stay for Christmas?" Tessa asked, unable to keep the question to herself. "Everyone's coming tomorrow, and they'd be so pleased to see you."

"I'm afraid I will not be able to stay that long," Brother Zachariah replied. James began reaching for Tessa. She took him in her arms, watching as Brother Zachariah raised his hood once more.

"Will you be able to stay for a while longer, at least?" Tessa asked, her request toeing the line of being a beg. Brother Zachariah paused, his hood halfway onto his head. A slow smile spread across his face, and for a second, he was so painfully Jem that Tessa felt the breath expel from her lungs as if she had been struck.

"I think I can," he replied. "After all, the Silent Brothers do not expect me back quite this early. They had thought that I would have to help here, then return. I have some time yet to stay before I must leave."

James gurgled happily, smiling at Brother Zachariah. He let his hood fall, smiling softly. "I'm glad you can stay," Tessa said quietly. She crossed to leave James' nursery, knowing that Brother Zachariah was following her. Will was waiting for them downstairs.

"James saw his favorite Silent Brother, then?" he asked. Brother Zachariah chuckled softly. He seemed more human, somehow. Tessa hoped that the presence of loved ones in his life would keep Brother Zachariah from becoming like the other Silent Brothers, inhuman and cold.

"Are there any others he knows?" he countered. "I would be quite put out if he decided he preferred another to myself."

"No one could ever prefer anyone to you," Will told Brother Zachariah quietly. Tessa nodded in agreement, yawning widely.

"I'm afraid we won't be much entertainment for you tonight," she apologized. "We're both rather exhausted. James doesn't often let us sleep through the night."

"Shall I entertain you instead?" Brother Zachariah asked. "Will, is my violin still in the music room?"

"No one but you has touched it," Will promised. With only the softest whisper of the parchment robes, Brother Zachariah was gone.

"He slips away from us whenever we don't see him," Will murmured. Tessa took his hand and squeezed it.

"He is still Jem, under it all," she whispered. "So long as we are here, they will not be able to take that from him."

"I will not always be here," Will countered. Tessa felt the still-unfamiliar clench in her gut that reminded her that, while she may be immortal, Will was not.

"I will be," she replied softly. "I will not let him turn to stone."

Brother Zachariah glided back into the room, showing no sign of whether or not he had heard their conversation. In his long fingers dangled his violin.

"Play us something Christmassy," Will requested, sitting on the sofa. Tessa sat next to him, cradling James between them.

Brother Zachariah touched the bow to the strings and began to play, a mournful rendition of _God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen_ falling from his violin. When he finished, he seamlessly slid into _O Come, All Ye Faithful_ , then into _Silent Night_.

Somewhere around _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing_ , Tessa drifted off into sleep. When she woke the next morning, she and Will were still sitting on the couch, James sleeping peacefully in their laps. Both Brother Zachariah and the violin were gone. Tessa sighed, wishing he had been able to stay longer. She knew it was impossible, but she missed her Jem.

Then she saw a piece of paper on the table that she was certain had not been there before. She picked it up with careful fingers. Written on it, in Jem's careful calligraphy, were two words.

 _Happy Christmas_.

Tessa held the paper to her chest for a moment, closing her eyes. Even though Jem was gone, even though Brother Zachariah hadn't been able to stay the night, she thought her Christmas could be very happy indeed.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13: The Christmas Party_

Imagine, if you will, a Brooklyn loft, where the owner is hosting a party. It's a Christmas party, but in name only. More than that, it is a gathering of friends and colleagues, a time to be thankful for those who are still there.

The host is sitting with his boyfriend, a blue-skinned baby in his arms. Standing next to them is a woman who also has blue skin, albeit lighter. She takes a turn holding the baby, bouncing him and laughing. The boy's fathers smile as their son gurgles out a laugh.

Near this group is a girl who looks similar to one of the boy's fathers, with the same dark hair and cameo beauty. She is talking with a young man wearing a Star Wars t-shirt. With them is another couple: a girl with tan skin and dark curly hair in a ponytail, and her boyfriend, a tall man with a scar across his cheek. Flitting in and out of their conversation is an Asian girl with hair dyed blue and spiky black heels. She and the curly-haired girl seem to have some sort of camaraderie between them, though even an outsider could tell it is far from effortless.

Near them, more watching the party than joining it, is another couple. The woman is tall with dark hair and ancient eyes that don't seem to match her youthful appearance. Her partner, an Asian man with a shock of silver in his dark hair and silvery markings across his cheekbones, has a similar feeling of age. Sometimes, the host comes to talk to them, but for the most part, they remain in the background, watching and murmuring memories to each other.

Another couple dances, not caring that they're the only ones doing so. The girl, a petite redhead, laughs as her tall, blond boyfriend whirls her around the open area they've decided to commandeer as a dance floor. Watching them with smiles is an older couple. The woman is an older version of the little redhead, while the man bears no resemblance to her but clearly sees her as a daughter. He puts an arm around the woman's shoulders, squeezing them slightly. She leans against him with a smile.

The night passes. The host gathers everyone for a round of caroling. The boy in the Star Wars t-shirt stumbles his way through the unfamiliar songs. His girlfriend guides him through the songs she knows, although she has trouble with more modern carols. The host sings louder than everyone, but his boyfriend doesn't sing at all, holding the baby and smiling as if he could think of no where else he would rather be.

The blue-haired Asian girl is the first to leave. She embraces the host first, then shares slightly more tense embraces with his boyfriend and the curly-haired girl. She and her boyfriend are the next to leave, begging off with talk of responsibility and duty that they'll have to face in the morning.

Next to go is the couple with the old eyes. They thank the host, both embracing him, before leaving arm-in-arm. The blue-skinned woman leaves right after them, then the older couple embraces their daughter before slipping out as well.

Only seven people remain now, one of them a baby who's just drifted off to sleep. The host's boyfriend brings him to the bedroom. A tiny cat slips out of the room while the door is open. The host scoops him up, nuzzling him. When his boyfriend emerges from the bedroom, the host hugs him as well, whispering something that makes the boy's blue eyes light up. The two tell the others to be careful and slip into their bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Now there are four people remaining. The music is off and the only sound in the room is their conversation. The boy in the Star Wars shirt and the redhead are talking with a familiarity born of years of friendship, while their partners tease each other as only siblings do. Finally, they drift off to the spare rooms, going to bed as well. The blond boy turns off the lights as he leaves the room.

Outside the loft, snowflakes are just beginning to fall, creating the perfect picturesque scene. And inside the loft, everything is just about perfect too.


End file.
